Snuggie Sex
by americalovesthecockpit
Summary: England wants sex, but America is too cold. So he creates the greatest American invention ever ... the Snuggie! And has sex while wearing it. Written for the lulz. UKUS, in that order.


Notes: Crack and cracky sex ahoy! And America's silly POV for the lulz.

Edit: Cover art by my awesome friend srcpcsoha! :D

X

It was cold. Balls cold. And by that, I mean it was so cold that I could feel my balls shriveling.

But that was okay because I was in line to see SANTA!

Never mind that I'm a grown-ass man and everyone else in line was no older than ten. Screw everyone else. If I wanna sit in Santa's lap, I'm gonna sit in Santa's lap! That was my plan, though I was out later than I wanted because England had to stop by the liquor store. Oh, did I mention England was with me? And that he was drunk off his ass? Because he was. But I didn't care about his ass. I only cared about mine and putting it right in Santa's lap, HA!

God, why did they have to do it outside? I should have gone to a mall instead. But noooo, I had to wait in this long ass line, freezing my nuts off.

It was so cold that I could see my breath. "Hehe, look, England," I said bringing two fingers to my mouth and breathing condensation out. "I'm smoking."

He rolled his eyes and took another swig of whatever it was he was drinking. "Why the hell are we doing this?" he slurred. "You are … you are 200 or 300 years old. I forget which, but it is way too old for this shit."

"Can't you just have the Christmas spirit, England?" I asked, still pretending to smoke.

"It's goddamn November!"

"Whatever, dude! I put my decorations up as soon as Halloween is over. That's the AMERICAN way!" True facts, you guys. "And if I wanna sit in Santa's lap, I AM!"

"I'd rather you sit in _my _lap …" he mumbled with a smirk before taking another sip.

But I didn't care because suddenly I heard NEXT! And realized it was for ME! I merrily skipped over and plopped myself in Santa's lap.

"OOF!" said Santa, who sounded very pained for some reason. "Hoho … ho … y-you're a big boy, huh?" England started snickering but I didn't pay attention to him.

"SANTA!" I exclaimed excitedly. "LET ME TELL YOU WHAT I WANT FOR CHRIST - HOLY CRAP, IT'S YOU, FINLAND!"

"Shhh!" shhed Finland. "Don't tell the children! Just play along, okay?"

I should have guessed! I mean, the nearly seven foot 'elf' with a creepy stare and Swedish accent helping him should have been my first clue …

"Sm'le fir y'r p'cture," he said, staring eerily into my souuuuul.

"WHAT? No, I gotta tell '_Santa_' -" I paused to wink at Finland. "- what I want for Christmas. I want peace on Earth."

"Really?" Finland sounded shocked. "How very mature of you, America."

"PSYCH! Just kidding!" I said, cracking up. "Peace on Earth except for my own wars, HA! Actually, I want an iPad 2."

Finland smiled at me nervously. "Well … have you been a good boy?"

I glared at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean … you haven't been naughty, have you?"

England cackled behind me. What a weirdo.

"Um, no way! I'm a hero! I'm always good."

England was still laughing. That crazy drunk …

"I see," said Finland. "Well, I have a word of advice for you. Every year you demand things for Christmas. But remember … it's always better to give than to receive."

"Giving is _better _than receiving?" Mind=blown.

"Hey, now," said England, swaying where he stood. "Don' … don't be givin' him the wrong idea, Santa. Being on the receiving end is plenty good."

Finland's face totally changed. He swallowed nervously and said, "Oh - no, I didn't mean _that_ way -"

But England interrupted. "Don' be spoilin' my fun for tonight …"

I was gonna ask what fun he was talking about because I thought he was just gonna go back to his hotel and I was just gonna go home. But then Sweden, who looked very hurt for some reason, was staring hardcore at Finland.

"You b'lieve th't's true?" he asked him, looking like he was about to cry. What the heck …

"What? No! I meant literally - not … well … _actually_ …" Finland looked super nervous. Well, even more than he already was. "I-I mean I enjoy receiving a lot … though sometimes … it's a little forceful … since the only, um, 'present' I get is so big …"

"I see …" said Sweden, looking way too serious for his fake elf ears. "If you feel th't way, p'rh'ps you should try g'ving s'metimes, if you w'nt …"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" said Finland. "I didn't mean to upset you! I enjoy receiving! I really do!"

I was not following this crazy crap at all.

"Yo Finland," I interrupted. "I see you got some drama going on, but uh - I'm getting that iPad2, right dude?"

They were still staring at each other, being all serious, their eyes watering …

Jeez, call a wahhh-bulance already, am I right?

"… dude?"

X

We were climbing up the stairs to my apartment. Though I don't know why. Since England should have gone to his own hotel room. I mean, I didn't invite him. Who does he think he is following me back?

Especially since he was being really pushy about it. And by that I mean _literally_ pushing me. He kept shoving me, and being rough with me, going 'hurry up' and 'come on' and 'I don't know if I can wait until we get back to your place' … whatever that meant!

"Ya know, I think I finally understand what Finland was going on about …" I said, rounding the top of the stairs.

"Yeah?" England looked up from his bottle of something just a little too excitedly. "About … er … giving and receiving?"

"Yeah." We were at my door then, and I was fumbling with my keys. "You guys thought you could be all sneaky but I figured out your little code! I'm smarter than you think, ya know!"

"Heh." England threw down the bottle and it shattered on the floor. I was gonna scold him and tell him to give a hoot and not pollute, but he suddenly looked at me really weird and smirked. "That right, eh? You up for some giving and receiving tonight?"

"Tonight? Dude, it's over a month away until Christmas! DUH! Get a calendar. Wow."

I was really struggling with the key. My hands were so COLD! They were numb and I couldn't feel what I was doing.

He looked confused. "But I thought … I thought you said you knew what we meant?"

"Yeah, that Finland was calling me selfish! What a DICK!"

I was getting frustrated with that damn key. I was so cold, you guys. S-so cold. My balls felt like raisins! You guys know what I mean, right?

"You're an idiot …" mumbled England. "Hurry up."

"I'm trying, GOSH!"

"I can't keep it in my pants much longer."

"Keep what in your pants - OH SNAP, I GOT IT!" The key tumbled in the lock, and I tumbled in the room. Because England friggin' shoved me in. "DUDE!" I snapped. "Rude!"

I walked through to the living room, taking off my coat and hat as I went. Then I realized how cold it was, even inside. "Ugh, I need to turn up the heat …"

As England walked past me, he shoved me onto the couch. I fell on it, sat up, and gave him a look like WTF. "DUDE!" I shouted. "Knock it off! What the heck is your problem?"

"Wait there," said England, still smirking. "I'll be right back." Then he walked down the hall and left me sitting on the couch.

I don't know what he was expecting when he returned a couple minutes later. Apparently it was way different than the scene he did see. I'll describe it for you: me on the couch, bundled in a ball, in a blanket, nothing but my head sticking out, watching that classic claymation Rudolph special (respect the classics, you guys!), content with an innocent smile while watching, like :3

… but England was like :(

But ask me if I care. (You: do you care?) No, I don't. "Hahahaha … that elf wants to be a dentist! That's so silly."

"What the hell are you doing!" snapped England. He was holding a small bottle of something. But not alcohol. "Why are you curled up in a blanket like that?"

"Because it's cold!" DUH! "Balls cold!"

"Balls cold?" England looked confused. Like he'd never heard the term before.

"Yeah, so cold my balls are shriveling up!"

England glared at me for a moment, swayed a little, then straightened himself and said very seriously, "I'll bring them back."

"That's okay," I said, still watching the TV. "I don't need them for watching Rudolph - OOH OOH! They're singing again! 'I'm not just a nitwit, I'm not just a - oh pffft. I forgot the lyrics, haha!"

But England wasn't laughing. He walked (well, kinda stumbled …) over to me, and stood right in front of me. Totally blocking the TV! NOT COOL!

"Lose the blanket," he commanded.

"No," I pouted. "I'm cold."

"I _said_ …" England was looking creepy. He's a creepy drunk. "… lose the _goddamn blanket_." He grabbed the end of it and pulled.

"NOOOOOOOO!" I pulled back. It was just too cold not to wear it, you guys! "Give it back!"

Suddenly we were in a blanket Tug-of-War, and England was somehow stronger than usual when he's drunk. Combined with my awesome super strength, it meant that the blanket was probably going to rip.

"STOOOOOOOP!" I whined.

Then I did that thing where I pulled really hard, so that England pulled really hard, and when he did I purposely let go so that he purposely pulled too hard, fell backwards, and onto the floor. Then I wrapped the blanket back around me and said to his body on the floor, "Psssh. Serves you right."

It took him a minute to sit up. He was shaking as he crawled over, then stopped at the bottom of the couch, right below me.

"Heh heh …" he snickered, looking up at me with crazy eyes. "What if I go _under _the blanket?"

"Under?" I was confused. "Why the heck would you do that?"

"You'll see …"

He grabbed the bottom of the blanket and drew it over his head. Then he started crawling on top of me. I didn't realize at first he'd undone my zipper, but I did realize instantly when he reached inside and pulled my dick out. Because his hands were _ice cold. _

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"What?" England was startled by my shriek. "What the hell's your problem?"

I was upset by just the coldness at first. But then I realized something.

"Wait a minute!" I said. "Oh my God … YOU'RE TRYING TO HAVE SEX WITH ME AREN'T YOU? !"

A long, awkward pause.

" … well, yeah," said England finally, as if it was obvious.

I shoved him off of me. He hit the floor again. "No!" I shouted.

"Oh, fuck …" England muttered in pain. I think he hit his head this time. "Why the hell not? !"

"It is way too cold!"

Seriously you guys. I didn't say it was balls cold for nothing. I wouldn't lie to you, boys and girls. It's true facts. Just the thought of not being snuggled into that blanket - let alone taking my clothes off! - made me shiver. A shiver that ran all the way down my spine to my shrively, raisiny balls.

"It's not too cold," said England, struggling to sit up. "It's never too cold for a good shag."

"Uh, yes it is!"

"Look, you can keep your damn shirt on. I don't care. Just pull down your pants."

"NOOOOOO!" I whined, snuggling into the blanket more. "I don't wanna be without this blanket!"

England licked his lips. His was looking super creepy now! He had this smirk …"Then I'll go under it …"

"THERE'S NOT ENOUGH ROOM LEAVE ME ALONE GOSH SERIOUSLY! !"

I was getting pissed, if my caps lock didn't express that eloquently enough.

England was crawling back over to me. Scooting on all fours on my floor, all drunkenly. "I promise … I'll warm you up."

"Nuh-uh!"

He was at the foot of the couch now. "Yesssss … in fact, I'll do better than that. You'll be _hot _when I'm done with you. You'll be sweating, skin dampened by a hot sheen of it, your hair sticking to you, flushed so deep it practically burns-"

"WHOA!" I interrupted because … WHOA! "Is that how you talk when you're drunk? !

"It's how I talk when I'm desperate …"

Well. He did look pretty desperate, you guys. If only you could see the look on his face. That's probably why when I told him no again, he proceeded to start to cry and bitch and whine - you know how he gets when he's drunk. He just kept begging and pleading for me to throw him a "pity fuck" and I kept telling him to shhh because I couldn't hear Rudolph when he was rolling around on the floor crying like that.

"No means no, England!" I said during the commercials.

"But … but …" England was sniffling. "Can't we do _anything_? _Something? _Please, America?"

"Hmmm." I thought for a moment. "We can cuddle."

England deadpanned. "… _cuddle?"_

"Hmm, yeah. I'm still a little cold even with the blanket. Cuddling could be nice."

England looked pissed at first. But then he sighed and got on the couch with me. He curled up next to me and it was actually kinda nice. We sat there together, leaning against each other, watching the TV, and I wasn't cold anymore. It was … pleasant.

It was around the time when the Misfit Toys sung their little song - no, it definitely was, because I was trying to figure out just what the heck was wrong with that doll anyway (it looked normal to me! What's so misfit about it? !) when I felt England's hand go south. He'd been rubbing my back, which was fine I guess since it was warm. But then his hand went lower and lower, and then it slipped into my jeans. And cupped my ass.

"I SAID NO MEANS NOOOOOOOOO!"

His hands were still cold, you guys! D:

When I shoved England off the couch that time, he hit his head and passed out for good.

X

I didn't see England again after that night for a while. A couple weeks went by, and it was getting pretty close to X-mas. That's how cool people spell Christmas.

And I had totally come up with the best X-mas gift idea EVAR. I was gonna give one to everybody! Every country in the world deserved this awesome invention. Not only so that the world knows how cool I am, but also because Finland said it's better to give than to receive, and I'm pretty sure that meant I wasn't gonna get my gift unless I gave some too, that dick.

I am the best inventor in the world. I invented all the cool stuff: light bulbs, the telephone, cars, planes, radio, television, refrigerators, computers, microwaves - you get the idea. Also please don't fact check those because I just assumed. Besides, what have other countries invented? I don't even know, it's so unimportant. I mean, England's only good invention was me, am I right? And Canada invented … what, like the zipper or something? Oh, wow. The zipper. Yeah, I just have planes and guns and the internet, but way to go on that zipper, dude! We're soooo proud of you, Canada! (LOL buuuurn!)

So what is my latest invention that will be the awe of the world and best represent the wonder that is American ingenuity? Well, I was inspired by that night. You know, the night I just described before this, duh.

Surely I'm not the only one who's had this issue, am I right? Someone else out there has probably been too cold to fuck. Maybe Russia or something. It's extremely balls cold where he lives. I guess that's why his balls are so hairy. It's like a little fur coat for his nads or something.

So I sat down and invented the best thing I had in quite a while. Seriously. I was so proud. Suck it Alexander Graham Bell!

I just needed to test the prototype before I had a bunch made and gave them as X-mas gifts. So that's why I called up England …

"What do you want, America?" said his surly, Britishy voice on the phone.

"I have a present for you!" I replied excitedly. I sure was excited. To test out my new invention, I mean!

"If it's another Shamwow, please don't bother. That thing didn't clean up liquids quite as good as you said it would."

"Jeez, England. What the heck kinda liquids are you cleaning up? HAHA! Anyway, I was actually calling about that pity fuck."

There was a long pause. But I waited. I happily waited, letting the silent seconds roll by, sitting there with the phone to my face, just like :D

… then finally, I heard England's shaky voice. "Y-yeah? You're serious?"

"Yeah! Come over tomorrow around seven, okay?"

"S-seven …" he stuttered. "PM, right?"

"No, we're gonna have sex at seven in the morning - YES AT NIGHT, DUH! Haha, wow, what a dumb question." I heard England start to make a pissed off sound but I kept talking anyway! "Oh, and just so you know … your present is what I'll be wearing."

"Oh?" He didn't sound mad anymore. "That right?" No, he was definitely happier now …

"Oh, yeah. You're gonna _love _it."

"Heh … what is it?"

"No no! It's a surprise, silly!"

"I see …" he said all mischievously. "Well, what if I guess it?"

"You won't!"

"A sexy maid, perhaps? A cheerleader?"

"GAAHHH! Why are you guessing girls' costumes? ! You're a sick f-"

"Sorry, sorry!" he interrupted. "What is it then? Like a sexy cowboy, or fireman outfit or -"

"NO IT'S A SURPRISE SHUT UP!"

And then I hung up.

X

It was seven o'clock the next night. PM, of course. Just thought I'd clarify if y'all were dumb like England.

Let me lay it down for you. I had spread rose petals in a trail from the front door to my bedroom. The lights were out in my bedroom, but it was lit by candlelight. Because I had put a shit ton of candles in there and lit them all. It was the sexiest fire hazard you ever saw. I bought heart shaped pillows and scattered them over the bed with the rose petals. And I'd replaced my regular Batman sheets with silky satin ones. You guys ever felt satin sheets? So soft hgggggghhhhhh …

You get it right? It was a scene straight out of every trashy, cliché, panty-wetting romance ever. And there I was in the middle of it, on the bed. Lying seductively on my side, one arm propping up my head, the other draping down the curve of my hip, waiting for England to walk through that door …

Then he did. He followed that trail of rose petals, then tentatively - yet still with a pretty obvious smirk - entered the doorway.

"America, I'm here -" Suddenly his smirk disappeared for some reason. He looked … horrified.

"Something wrong?" I asked, running my hand down my hip, like an invitation.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING? !"

"Don'tcha like it?" I asked with my sexiest voice, all airy and crap. "It's your present."

He stared. And stood in the doorway and stared and stared and stared. But he didn't look as aroused as I thought he would. Finally he said, "… why are you wearing an ugly, cheap bathrobe backwards as my present?"

I WANTED TO CRY.

My feelings … ouch :(

"What the EFF!" I said, sitting up. "It's my new invention! It's the greatest thing, like, ever!"

"But somebody already invented the bathrobe …"

"It's _not _a bathrobe!" I said defensively. No, wait. Offensively. Hehe, yeah. "IT'S A SNUGGIE!"

"A … _Snuggie?" _Why did England curl his lip up like he was disgusted or something when he said that word?

"YES!" I said proudly. "It's the blanket WITH SLEEVES!"

England clearly didn't get it. Maybe he didn't hear me …

"Are you listening, England? With sleeves! _With sleeves_, dude! SLEEEEEEEEEEEVES!"

"I heard you the first goddamn time! I just don't know why you thought that'd be sexually appealing!"

"Well, duh, England!" I was sitting up now, but you couldn't see any of my sexy bits, since the Snuggie covered them all. "Remember that night you wanted to have sex with me, but I said no, because I was so cold?"

England glanced to the side, looking irritated. "… yes …"

"Well, that's what I invented the Snuggie for!" I flashed a big hero thumbs up. "Now we nor no one else ever has to worry about being too cold to have sex during the cold months ever again!"

"You say that like it's a normal problem!" England still hadn't moved from the doorway. Didn't he want me in this sexy Snuggie …? "Why don't we just do it under the covers, or not take off all our clothes, _something! _There's got to be a better solution than … _that_ atrocity."

"Atrocity? ATROCITY? ! Ha! I don't know the meaning of the word!" Seriously, you guys. What's it mean? "You didn't even let me explain! You see, it's all the comfort of a regular blanket, except that it has sleeves, so that you can do things without taking off the blanket!"

"Yeah, I got it," snapped England. "It's not exactly rocket science …"

"Shut up, I'm not done explaining!" I gestured down my body. At my glorious Snuggie. "You see, my front and arms will stay warm. All the way down, since this thing is super long, like a blanket, you see. But the back can be open."

"Right, right, because it's a bloody backwards bathrobe. Do go on …"

"Well, that's it," I said with a shrug. "I can be warm during sex."

"… I still feel like the situation could have just as easily been solved by not taking your pants off completely and wearing a warm sweater during."

"I'm not wearing a sweater during sex, that's GAY!" Disregard the fact that this would already be gay sex, you guys. Y'all know that's not what I meant.

"Oh, but you'll wear a damn _Snuggie _during? ! That's better? !"

"Hells yeah it is. Snuggies are cool. And sweaters are gay."

It was then I noticed that England was wearing a sweater vest. A classy plaid sweater vest, over a nice dress shirt. _So_ _gay _…

England starting rubbing his head. "Am I really going to shag someone whilst wearing a damn backwards bathrobe …?" he asked to himself like a crazy person.

"HEY ENGLAND THINK FAST!" I tossed something over to him.

"Wha …?" Luckily he caught it. When he saw it, his cheeks flushed red. It was that little bottle he'd gotten out last time he was over at my place. OF LUBE. It wasn't even mine. He'd apparently bought it a while ago, stashed it somewhere in my house just in case he got lucky, and pulled it out that day. That little sneak!

"Remember that?" I asked. "Let's put it to use, okey?"

He popped it open, looking kinda nervous. "Do … do we really have to do it … with the Snuggie?"

"HECK YES! That's the whole reason I'm having sex with you!"

England looked almost sickened for some reason …

"I mean, I gotta test this thing out! I'm giving these things as X- no wait. Better not say anything yet. It's a secret."

England let out a long, long, oh and did I mention long, sigh. Then he finally walked over to me and sat on the edge of the bed. "I suppose we better get on with it then …" he said as he toed off his shoes.

I crawled onto my knees and elbows. "I'm wearing sweatpants under this. Don't take them off. Just slide them down enough to get'er done."

"V-very well …" He may have said that, but it didn't sound v-very well. He sounded hesitant, though I dunno why. The other night he was literally begging me to let him do this.

So there I was. On the rose petal bed, lit by flickering candlelight, on all fours, assuming the position. In my Snuggie.

Yes, my glorious Snuggie. Warmly covering my front and arms, as it is a blanket with sleeves, you know. Underneath I wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants, because they too are very sexually attractive. Not an inch of my skin below my chin was showing. Even my neck was covered, as the neck part of the Snuggie is very wide and thick and gaping and kinda weird but whatever. Every part of me was covered, either in the cheap thick fleece of my Snuggie, or the cheap thick cotton of my sweats. I'm describing the scene. Sexy right? You're probably creaming your panties just thinking about me like this.

Though as wonderful as the Snuggie is, my back was still cold. That's where England comes in …

"Hurry up," I said, wriggling my butt in the air a little. "I'm getting cold over here. Whip it out."

"Well …" England looked away, like he couldn't look me in the eyes. "Normally … I … well … like a little foreplay beforehand …"

"Oh." I stopped wiggling my butt. "Okay. Do that if you want."

"How? The damn Snuggie's in the way …"

"Well, I sure as hell ain't taking it off so you better get on with it!"

England crawled up behind me, but didn't do anything for some reason. "But I want to touch you. How am I supposed to do that with the Snuggie in the way?"

I glanced back. "Touch me?"

"Yeah …" England looked away, blushing. It was kinda lulzy to me. "I want … I want to kiss you … kiss down your neck … down your body … tease your nipples, maybe suck on them a little … lick down your navel … leave marks on your skin … make you flush red … make you sensitive until you can't stand it … until you're begging me for it … until …"

England was still talking, but I zoned out long ago. I was typing up something on my cell phone. You see, this was an experiment to see how well my Snuggie worked during sex. I needed to log my observations. And I already found the first flaw! Not that I'm covered so much that England couldn't get in much foreplay, I don't give a shit about that. No, it's that my back is still FREEZING!

"… your body a quivering mess of -"

I glanced over my shoulder, still fiddling with my phone. "You done yet? Seriously. Put it in already."

"WHAT!" he barked. "Were you even listening to me?"

"Nope."

"Idiot! I'm trying to do this right and you're on your damn mobile!"

"Yeah, I'm calling you a wahhh-bulance."

England gasped angrily. "Wh … WHAT? ! Fucking twat! I'm trying to -"

"Hello, whine-one-one?" I said into the phone. "We have a serious emo-gency here. I'm trying to have Snuggie sex and my idiot partner won't put it in. He just wants to bitch about stuff instead. WHAT DO?"

England looked PISSED. Seriously. You should have seen his face! "I-idiot! How the hell am I supposed to 'put it in' when I'm not even hard? !"

I flipped my phone shut and glared back. "Not hard? What the hell … look at this awesome sexy scene! Straight out of a damn Nicholas Sparks book! You should have popped a boner the minute you walked in here and saw my sexy self in this sexy Snuggie!"

"You're … you're kidding, right? If anything, that eyesore is a boner killer."

Boner killer? BONER KILLER? ! How dare England call my glorious Snuggie a boner killer!

… whoa, you ever say a word too many times in a row and it's weird to say afterwards? I just did that with 'boner killer.' Now it sounds like a cool new action movie. _Hide the women and children, because this summer, he's back for revenge. With the strength over 9000 penises comes … BONER KILLER! Staring Vin Diesel. _

… meh, I'd watch that.

Anyway. Back to flaccid England.

"This is why I wanted foreplay," said England. "It's how I get … you know … aroused …"

"Pshhh," I said, annoyed. "You're like a chick."

England gave me this look. And then I remembered I was the one who was gonna be taking it in the ass.

Oh yeah :/

Never mind.

To change the subject I wagged my butt in the air again. "Englaaaaaaand, I'm cold. I mean waiting. But yeah, also cold."

He sighed again. "Guess I'll just have to make the best of it …"

Apparently the 'the best of it' meant sliding down my sweatpants. Urgh. The air was so cold on my bare ass! Seriously. I just knew my skin was all cold and clammy and -

"EEEEEEEEEEEE!"

That was me shrieking, by the way.

Once England had slid my sweatpants down a little, he'd reached his hand up under me. And cupped my balls. With his ice cold hand.

"S-s-s-so c-c-cold," I stuttered, shivering.

"You lied to me," said England. "You said your balls had shriveled when you got cold. They're not." He rolled them in his hand, like he was weighing them.

"Hah …" I started. "S-stop … y-your hand … it's like ice …"

"It'll warm up." Now he was rubbing them. His fingers were massaging. The coldest massage ever …

"N-n-not soon enough." Now my teeth were chattering.

Then his hand stopped. They slid up, running up the length of my shaft.

"You're a hypocrite, too," he said. "You're not hard either."

"T-t-too cold to get hard," I replied. "B-b-besides. I-I-I'm just d-doing th-this for my Sn-Snuggie."

"Right." With that, he gripped and started stroking. "We'll see about that."

I shivered hard. But only because of the coldness! "SO COLD!" I exclaimed. But I couldn't believe it. Despite my shrinkage, I was actually plumping up in his hand …

But even as I got hard, England's hand was still cold! What the heck! Why must I be tortured like this? !

It was like a piece of ice beating me off. Like getting a hand job from a snowman. Or the yeti from that Rudolph Christmas special. Not sexy, you guys!

Yet I got as hard as a rock. Umm …

England withdrew his hand. I didn't even realize I'd been clenching my eyes shut until then. I was still muttering into the pillow about how cold I was when I felt it.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I screeched again.

"What's your problem? !"

"TAKE THE ICE OUT OF MY ASS!"

I was just laying there minding my own business and ALL OF A SUDDEN I felt something even colder than England's hand cram itself into my ass. Oh God, I wanted to cry! I started shivering so hard I could barely speak, and I tried to cuddle myself into the Snuggie more for warmth but it didn't help.

"W-w-what did you put in me? !" I looked back, trying to see.

It was England's hand after all! But in his other hand was the small bottle.

"Lube?" England said as if it was obvious.

"YOU GOTTA WARM IT UP FIRST, DUH!"

This is common knowledge! DUH! Who doesn't know this? ! You learn this shit in kindergarten, I mean come on now.

"Oh, sorry," said England. "I didn't think about that."

So there we were. England had put two of the coldest, lube-slicked fingers inside my ass. He started sliding them in and out, coating me with that lube, and I felt like I was getting fingered with icicles. I just lay there on my knees and elbows, trembling hardcore.

God, does anyone remember that old Christmas claymation special with the Heat Miser and Snow Miser? And they control the weather and the elves lose a reindeer and they fight over making it snow in the South or some shit? Anyway it felt like I was being fingered by that Snow Miser guy. Ugh. He's not even hot.

… you see what I did there? 'Hot'? Because he's the _Snow_ Miser? HAHAHAHA I crack myself up.

But back to the coldest anal play in existence.

After about a minute or two of England rubbing that liquid ice all up in my ass, he pulled his fingers out. I felt nothing for a few moments. Nothing but cold. This Snuggie was not working as good as I thought it would. Sure, my front and arms were warm. But my back, my feet, my ass …

I heard England unzip. I glanced back again, to see. He was actually taking his pants all the way off!

"A-a-aren't you cold, England?" I asked.

"Not really." He was tugging his pants off his legs. "My sweater vest is fairly warm."

WELL HIS HANDS SURE WEREN'T! I was still trembling like crazy.

He started sliding off his boxers. I got one quick peek (he definitely wasn't flaccid anymore!) before looking forward again. I heard rustling of clothes, then a creak of the bed, and felt him behind me again.

With one icy hand, I felt him spread me. It held me open, while the other guided his cock.

I gasped loudly, almost violently when he entered me. Almost sounded like a choking noise. But it was a happy choke, because England's cock was _warm._

"Oh God," I whimpered.

"Tch," England clicked his tongue smirking. "You sure changed your tone."

It didn't even hurt. All I felt was a warm warmness, warming me until I was warm, warm as my front and arms because I was wearing a blanket with sleeves - no, even warmer than that, because this was the warmest warm sensation I have ever had the pleasure of warming me -

-oh fuck. Now it wasn't warm anymore. As England drew back and thrust into me again, it was _hot_.

I curled my hands into fists tightly around my Snuggie sleeves. "Fuck yessss …" I hissed.

After being cold for so long, it felt so good to be filled by such incredible heat. It was like being banged by the Heat Miser, but even hotter, because England is hotter than the Heat Miser. I meant by looks, but you still see what I did there, right?

Then I felt even hotter. Because England climbed completely on top of me. His chest pressed against my back, and he leaned into me. One of his arms was on the bed for leverage, the other roaming along my side, feeling up my Snuggie.

He started thrusting faster, setting a steady pace. I was squished, holding me and mostly him up, supporting some of his weight as he closed the open space where my Snuggie didn't cover. I was trembling but not from cold. I finally wasn't cold anymore.

But that doesn't mean I was satisfied.

"Harder," I commanded. "Faster."

I needed MOAR.

Moar of that heat filling me …

England grunted and obeyed. The sound of skin slapping grew more rapid. The bed was creaking and thumping. England was panting as he strained.

I'd never snuggled anything as hard as I snuggled into my Snuggie right then. It was some hardcore snuggling. I had to hold onto something, as England had found my prostate, and oh fuck. Going as fast and hard as he was … filling me up with such intense heat … drilling me in my sweet spot … nnghh …

I'd just been in it for the heat before. But now that he'd hit the right spot, I was really getting into it. I started rocking back to meet his thrusts.

"I'm close," England panted.

"Mmm." That's all I could say.

"Are you?"

"Mm."

"I - want - to - touch you," he managed between breaths. "Make - you cum first."

But England's reach-around was cock blocked (hand blocked? Fabric blocked?) by my Snuggie. When he went to grab a handful of me, all he got was a handful of fleece.

"Move your Snuggie," he panted.

"Can't."

He was still rapid-fire pounding me, right in the right spot. I wanted to tell him SHUT UP. Now was not the time for conversations …

"Why not?

"Don't - wanna be cold."

"But I can't reach."

I was trembling so hard I almost couldn't support us up anymore.

"… mmm … you reached before …"

"That was -" England's voice sounded so strained. "- a different angle."

Oh yeah. That's right. Before England had sat behind me and reached up and around to grab me. Now he was up on top of me and his arm couldn't reach from that angle …

… and now my Snuggie was blocking the way for a regular reach-around.

Oh God.

There's a terrible flaw in my Snuggie prototype! :O

NO REACH-AROUNDS.

This was a problem …

Well, it _could_ have been a problem. But not this time. Because I was cumming even without England giving me a reach-around.

I arched even deeper into him as I came with a hard shudder. I curled into my Snuggie, trying to muffle with the sleeve the squeaking gasp I made as I spilled my -

OH SHIT.

I came all over my Snuggie!

The last drops were still trickling out as I realized. "Oh noes!" I cried. "My Snuggie! Oh GOD! What have I done? !"

I knew I'd done it, as the Snuggie covered my entire front. I couldn't look though. I was too scared. That and England was still on top of me and he needed to get off before I could …

I buried my face in the pillow. "No no no no nooooooo …" I cried.

"That's why - you don't wear a damn bathrobe backwards - during sex," said England, still furiously thrusting.

"I … I guess so," I replied, sniffling. "I guess that's why this was a test. I gotta d-document my findings …" I grabbed my cell phone. Though it was hard to read the screen and type when England was still pushing into me so hard.

"Nmmm …" England moaned. I could tell by how erratic his thrusts were becoming that he was close.

"Don't cum inside me," I demanded, still typing on my cell phone.

"Mmm," England replied.

"Or on me either. I'll be pissed."

"Nggh …"

I do believe I was on the word 'jizztastrophe' (get it? Like jizz+catastrophe? LOL) when it happened. England gripped hard at my sides, stiffened up, pumped a couple more times, and froze. I was like HEY WAIT A MINUTE but it was too late …

He came inside me with a low moan.

"ASSHOLE!" I shouted as I shoved him off of me. "What did I just say? !"

He hit the bed and groaned. "Ugghhh … I'm sorry .. I … I couldn't help myself …"

His cum started trickling out of my asshole. It was white hot, which I gotta admit, felt really nice since I'd been so cold. But I was pissed because I knew it wouldn't be like that for very long.

"This shit's gonna get cold really fast!" I whined. "This is exactly why I didn't want you to cum in me!"

"Jesus Christ …" he muttered, sitting up. "Just wipe it up."

"What about the rest up in me? !" Some of it was running down my thighs now, already starting to cool.

"What about it?"

I grabbed England's head. "You're doing something about it!"

"Eh?"

That's all he could say before I shoved his face in my ass.

"Get to felching," I commanded.

I heard him nervously swallow. "Umm …"

"Nuh uh. Shut up. The only swallowing you're doing now is your own cum outta me."

As we felched the night away, all I could think about was my poor Snuggie. How I stained it. How I tainted it. How I should probably clean that thing off with my own tongue too …

"Or you could just use the washing machine like a normal person," said England in between licks and swallows.

I probably shouldn't have been thinking out loud. "Shut up and get back to work."

X

It was the day after X-mas. I had followed Finland's advice. Pretended giving is better than receiving. I gave others presents. And now my glorious reward … an iPad2! :O

I was crying tears of pure joy as I downloaded my first app.

"This is the greatest gift ever," I said, tears of bliss streaming down my face. "I love you, Finland, you crazy Nordic son of a bitch …"

BAM!

England busted through my door like he thought he was a badass. "AMERICA!" he bellowed.

"WHAT?" I shouted back.

"What the hell kind of present is this supposed …" Then he saw me, and looked shocked. "… to be …? What the …! You're wearing one too? !"

"Hells yeah."

"WHAT IS THIS RUBBISH? !"

"Allow me to explain," I said, standing up and setting my awesome iPad2 aside. Then I posed in my greatest invention ever, even greater than the other things I said were my greatest invention. I was just kidding with those.

It was made of fleece, just like the Snuggie. Except it covered me from head to toe. It had a hood, fit like a onesie, including a shirt with long sleeves and long pants, with thick fleece socks.

England had one in his hands. Why wasn't he wearing it … ?

"You see, England," I began. "After we had sex in my Snuggie -"

England grimaced and glanced away for some reason.

"- to test it," I continued. "I typed up my observations from the experiment and improved upon its flaws."

"You mean that it's hideous looking?"

"No! That it doesn't keep your back warm unless someone gets on top of you from behind during sex …"

England was blushing hardcore then.

"That, and limited cock access to the wearer!" I said. "I mean, no reach-arounds? ! And of course … well … my little mishap …"

"You ejaculated on it."

"SHUT UP I DON'T WANNA RELIVE THAT MEMORY GOD STOP TALKING ABOUT IT ALREADY!"

"Whoa," said England. "Someone's a little defensive …"

"Anyway!" I continued, happy again, because I was talking about my awesome invention. "This one has FLAPS!" I gestured to the flaps. There were zippers so you could unzip for easy access. Even a butt flap! … _especially_ a butt flap.

"You're a damn idiot. This is just a big onesie with a hood."

"B-but! Mine has flaps!"

He crossed his arms. "Still a dumb invention. It looks like a damn Teletubby's costume."

"Did you not hear me? FLAAAAAAAPS!"

"Why the bloody hell did you send me one for Christmas? ! Did you think I actually wanted something like this? !"

"I gave one to everybody!" I said, giving him a happy thumbs up. "It's my X-mas gift to everyone! So that Finland couldn't accuse me of being selfish so that I could get my iPad2, so haha in his face."

"You sent … every country … this … piece of sh-"

"I call it!" I interrupted dramatically. "THE FOREVER LAZY! Trademarked. Don't steal my idea."

And please don't make "forever alone" jokes about the name, you guys. Seriously. They're not funny!

(By the way, this is a real thing, like IRL. You can go buy Forever Lazies wherever Snuggies are sold. It's not just made up for this story. Go Google it if you don't believe me. Go watch the commercial in fact! It's on youtube. After you watch it, you'll totally want one! True story.)

England dropped his Forever Lazy on the ground. "I don't want it."

"Yeah, ya do."

"I don't."

"But I need someone to test these flaps with."

He glanced up from the floor, looking into my eyes like he was waiting for me to say something. He'd looked annoyed, but that was changing …

"… the butt flap?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah. I made them so that both the pitcher and catcher can wear them and be warm at the same time!"

"… can _you _wear it and I just go without?"

"Nope! I wanna test it out with both!"

There was a long pause. England looked deep in thought. Like he was annoyed and aroused at the same time.

Finally he sighed, picked his Forever Lazy up off the floor, and buried his face in it in shame.

"All riiiiight," I said, excited. "Let's go make use of those flaps!"

And then we were FOREVER SEXY.

(End!)


End file.
